A visit to Dolmetsch....

It’s exactly 50 years since my first trip overseas, to research what England, Ireland and Scotland were doing in folk music, possibly to get some ideas what we should be doing down here in Australia. And so now I’m flicking through my travel diary to see where I was and what I was up to 50 years ago. It’s amusing.

Good to remember that up to this point, I had a promising career in research electronics. This trip was a long-service leave diversion. Surely, I’d return to life as normal after it?

So, exactly 50 years ago today, I find myself in Haslemere, Surrey, lining up for a tour of the Dolmetsch factory. Hmmm, this is quite a bit out of my normal orbit. And Dolmetsch made recorders and harpsichords (of a sort!) - Early music instruments, not folk. Why am I here?

As best as I can remember, it’s because I wanted to see what instrument making was like, on the ground. I hadn’t come across anyone making Irish flutes, or I would have visited them. I still don’t really know if anyone was making Irish flutes anywhere at the time.

I know making Irish flutes was on my mind. Just two weeks after going to Ireland, attending a flute playing school in Kerry, we were asked to write an essay on the topic of “What should Comhaltus be doing”. I sternly lectured them that they should be making flutes! This no doubt arose from my observations that all the flute players I had met were playing old 19th century flutes in various states of disrepair. “Various” stretching from almost good enough to just about impossible.

I don’t think I learned that much from Dolmetsch - their world was very different to mine. But if I did learn anything, it was that instrument making was possible. And that was probably enough.

A few weeks later and I’m on the way home back to Australia. In the following few months, I rough out my first flute!

And it’s in the light of the above, I feel the need to comment on Jim Stone’s recent review of a Copley & Boegli flute. He said:

“I got my fins on a recent Copley Boegli blackwood six key. It’s really a great flute. The workmanship is impeccable, the physical aesthetics fine, the intonation spot on, the sound strong and beautiful. The keys are beautiful and work well, the finger hole spacing is easy enough. I’ve been playing flute for decades, I do think this flute is remarkable.”

I’m loving to hear that fullsome review. Not just because it tells us that these makers are really succeeding in their craft. That’s great, and well done to them!

But it’s also telling us how far the flute revival has come. Remember above, exactly 50 years ago, I wasn’t aware of any makers of Irish flutes, despite my very deep dip into the folk music of Ireland, England and Scotland. And so, as far as I was concerned, I was the only person harbouring plans to make Irish flutes anywhere in the known universe. (One day we may be able to prove or disprove that!)

But, whatever, look at us now. How many makers appear in the list of flute makers in the stickies further up? Fifty years later we have makers spread right round the world, making flutes to meet surely every need. And I reckon the reviews are getting better. We makers are getting collectively better at what we do.

I think it’s interesting and instructive that we aren’t necessarily doing the same thing. Personal needs dictate which flute will suit you. With some influence of regional style. There’s a PhD in that for someone…

We live in the golden age of “Irish flutes”. You’ve had quite a journey Terry! I appreciate your sharing it with all of us.

Eric

Yes, a massive roller coaster ride, Jayhawk. I feel very privileged, and perhaps a bit lucky to have survived it! So far, at least…

I do feel I was dumped, by perhaps some wayward force of the Universe, into a situation I neither fully understood or could hope to control. A triumph of optimism over good sense!

One thing to have gone to England, Ireland and Scotland to see what they were up to in Folk Music, and perhaps not surprising to have been able to see that the lack of decent flutes was a clear problem to a music scene that was otherwise developing rather nicely. Pipers could make the same point.

But a bit bonkers to come back to Australia, toss in my nice safe career in research electronics to take up life as an Irish flute maker with absolutely no idea how I was going to sell my product - how many Australians were going to want an Irish flute? That was a long time before the Internet was born, suddenly giving us all a world market.

And overlooking the fact that I had had exactly zero experience in wood and metal working. (Although my father had been a carpenter!) At school, I had opted for Latin and French when the other kids were doing woodwork and metalwork. I would have been more qualified to become a priest!

And those sorts of questions must have also plagued the minds of others around that time that were intrigued by the same idea. Whoever they were! I wonder how many might have not actually ventured into it, how many actually started, how many stuck it out, and how many fell by the wayside, defeated by the improbability of reviving the making of early and mid 19th century instruments in the late 20th century.

But these are all rambling wonderings. I did scrape through, as did a number of other Irish flute makers, and I think between us, we did change the course of Irish music history, or at least meddled with it bigtime!

My next challenge is, having ridden the roller coaster so far, to be able to alight safely and surely, and not fall face down in the mud. I’m conscious of my age (77 on New Years Day next!), and keep wondering how much longer I should be accepting orders. I’ve just bought 20 metres of the half-round silver wire I use for rings, so I must reckon on making 40 more flutes. Perhaps a step down from the roller coaster is to only make keyless flutes, and then a further step down, only make keyless flutes for stock. An orderly withdrawal rather than an unseemly rout?

But it does beg the question, what would I do if I don’t make flutes? Woaahhh, this is a question I have not had to face before!

Terry…you gotta do you! If you’re still having fun, keep going or dramatically cut back. If you’re feeling it’s time…there are a billion ways your time will mystically fill up when you retire. I guarantee you won’t be bored!

Eric

Easy, Terry - make flutes. But only what, when and how you feel like making them. No pressure or deadlines, just for fun (that is, if you actually enjoy making them).

Enjoy yourself - you have earned it.

Skydiving? :smiley:

Skydiving? Nah, a bit tame after flute making!

The Dolmetsch works visit back in 1974 was a pretty good indicator that I was harbouring delusions of flute making. We could see that building up over the period of my time in England, Scotland and Ireland. Me lecturing the Comhaltas that they should be making flutes. Hanging out with flute repairer and seller Paul Davies. Visiting flute collector and author Phillip Bate, then going on to visit his collection at Oxford, meeting Anthony Baines, collection curator and restorer. Checking out other collections for any museum plans. Visiting the Boosey & Hawkes factory.

But perhaps the clearest indicator comes today, 50 years ago. We’re flying home in a couple of days, so it’s last minute wrap up time. We decide to go to Portobello Road for one last look. This is where I’d met Paul Davies earlier in the year, so it was important in my journey.

And what did we find that I thought was worth noting in my travel diary. A neat little two-foot bed wood lathe. For just 10 pounds! My note in the diary “too late now” tells us that I was clearly plotting something. The fact I’d seen lathes at the Bate Collection, Dolmetsch, Boosey & Hawkes, and at a Scottish pipe maker in London clearly links making and lathes. But too late. And how would I have got it home? In my carry-on luggage?

Just time left to visit Dr Maud Karpeles (Cecil Sharpe’s amanuensis) one final time tomorrow, then off to Heathrow early on Monday morning to fly home. Clearly mulling what comes next…